Whipped
by TheNocturne
Summary: Interestingly enough, Wally isn't quite the one who wears the pants in this relationship. One-shot, Kuki/Wally with some Abby/Hoagie, too.


**This is a result of a review left by the superamazingawesomefreakingfantastic Kati on my latest one-shot, "100 Percent Juice", who made the passing comment: "By the way, is Wally whipped or what?" This got my brain churning and soon I had come up with this little story, which I find very amusing and I'm hoping that you do, too.**

**I enjoy writing one-shots, and I'm going to keep writing them, so you'd better buckle up. :D**

**I hope you have a WONDERFUL week and enjoy every minute of it. Live life to the fullest, y'know?**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Codename: Kids Next Door. Sigh.**

**  
Love, Sadie**

--

It was an unusually dim Friday afternoon. Since it was the middle of a blazing summer, the days previously had been scorching, the kind of days that made sweat trickle down the skin and the air seem thick and heavy. But now the sky was blanketed with broad, grey clouds that only barely let the sun through, and the little bit of sun was lost in the howling wind that was busy rattling the shutters of any house within reach.

Inside of a rather safe house, built with many complex pieces and mechanical parts, a group of people were huddled together in the living room, ears cocked to listen to the billowing wind that was creating a mournful hymn outside. They looked rather glumly at each other, a small basket set aside, the remnant of their prior hope to enjoy the day outside.

"What're we going to do now?" The owner of the groan was a lanky boy with a glum demeanor below his loftily-sitting goggles. He was seated on the floor, legs crossed, with his chin propped into his palm and his mouth pulled to the side in a dismal frown.

From the couch, the female nearby chirped somewhat hopefully, "We could watch a movie." But the others knew what kind of movies that she happened to be thinking of - silly creations that involved singing animals, princesses and castles, colorful dreamlands, or a combination of the three - and so they politely and quickly declined, and she let out a sigh that echoed the disappointment of the rest of them.

"Let's eat the lunch that we made, at least," the boy sitting on the chair nearby commented, peering at them over the rim of his sunglasses. It was a feeble suggestion, one that wasn't fun in the slightest, but no one could think of a better alternative. After a few minutes of quiet distributing of food, they all held wrapped foods in their hands and had begun to nibble on the edges of their sandwiches or chips.

It was a comfortable scene, one that would make a warm Christmas morning. On the couch sat two teenagers, the cheery oriental girl and a lanky Australian boy. She was sitting between his legs, and they had become a tangle of limbs that looked uncomfortable from afar off, and yet seemed to be a perfect fit for them. One of his arms was resting on her stomach almost possessively, as though warning off those who didn't even need to be warned off. Her head was tucked just right against the cave of his throat, where she could listen to the steady beating of his heart.

One the floor nearby rested two others, leaning against each other in a relaxed fashion. While they preferred to keep their relationship less obvious than the former pair, they did not refrain from physical attraction in public – her chocolate hand was curled loosely inside of his, and when they laughed together, their heads were mere inches apart. While they did not appear as apparent as the pair on the couch, their feelings were just as strong, although they kept it from the prying eyes of those around them.

The boy sitting on the chair sat alone, although he did not mind it. He had long known of the connections between the four in front of him, and he had no objections to them. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his heart, a pain ached for a face that was far off, but for now, he was simply enjoying the family feeling of those around him. They had indeed created bonds that were stronger than one could ever hope to explain, ones that could not be severed by the mere forming of couples within the group.

The room would have only needed a pine tree and a crackling fire to complete it. But lacking these things, it had become a room of dismal disappointment instead, with each figure inside casting around for some kind of suggestion. The fun had simply seeped out of them, trickling down the drain with the falling drops of rain.

"Well," the oriental girl finally spoke again, stretching out the word into an elongated syllable, "maybe we could play a game?"

"Kuki." Across the room, the other girl lifted an eyebrow at her. "You see this tiny house, girl? There's no room for a game in here." A few chuckles escaped the other occupants of the room. Leave it to Kuki to ignore any kind of common logic in the hope of finding some small glimmer of fun.

"Abby's right, we don't have enough room-"

"Abby's _always_ right," the dark-skinned girl interjected with a wry grin.

"-and no one wants to play any stupid game." When the speaker finally finished, he felt that he had made his point quite clear. He had _not_ expected for the girl in his lap to react as she did. Immediately, her head drooped, and her eyes met the floor like the carpet held some sort of magical secret for her to unravel. And her lower lip pushed outward, tying together her dejected look entirely.

"Games aren't stupid, Wally," the goggled boy said innocently in the girl's defense, while trying to hide his laughter. Like a match thrown into gasoline, his words were meant to spark a flame, and they did.

Wally immediately looked defensive, scrambling to cover up his words. "Well, I didn't mean that exactly. . . I mean, they are. . . not, they're not, it's just that the house is small and. . ."

"I like games," Kuki said sadly, as though her love for the childish actions erased their stupidity in Wally's mind. A little sigh heaved through her shoulders, until she was slumped apart from him, and her body warmth had pulled away from him entirely.

"No, I just. . . that's not what I . . . well, what I mean was. . ." He looked imploringly at those around him, silently pleading for an escape from his verbal snare. But the others were having too much fun watching him try to escape the web that he had weaved for himself, and said nothing, only covering up their snickers at him. Defeated, Wally let out a tiny 'humph' of disgust. "Alright, we'll play a cruddy game. Go. . . I dunno, hide or something."

With a squeal of glee, Kuki soared off the couch and bounded out of the room, with her billowy green shirt trailing behind her. Once she was out of the room, the others burst out laughing, leisurely climbing to their feet and stretching as though they were in no hurry at all. It was all Wally could do to not glare holes through them.

"Hide-and-Seek?" With a laugh, the boy with the goggles sauntered toward the door, smirking the entire way. Abby followed him with her own wave of snickering, and the two hesitated by the doorframe.

The teenager in the sunglasses began to laugh. "Oh, come on, Hoagie, look how _happy_ she was." This brought forth a new wave of laughter, one that had turned Wally's face from its usually tanned state into a flaring, vibrant red.

"But of course, Nigel," Hoagie dictated smugly, "and Wally knows that if Kuki ain't happy, ain't _nobody_ happy."

"Shut up," Wally grumbled, waving them away and crossing his arms indignantly. "Just go freakin' hide." He considered shoving them all into a closet, locking it, and then telling Kuki later than he simply couldn't find them and that they had obviously won. But it wouldn't be worth the scuffle that might catch her attention.

Laughing, they finally obliged, filing out to find half-attempted hiding spots while trying to quiet their gleeful laughter at the boy's scarlet cheeks. Only Hoagie remained, leaning against the doorframe and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Dude," he snickered, turning to escape into one of the halls, but not before giving Wally a flick of his wrist. "You are so _whipped_."


End file.
